


Don't Be Sad

by Kalira



Category: Naruto
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Pre-Relationship, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-10-30 04:49:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20808803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira
Summary: Tobirama is having a bad day, and has shut himself away to handle it alone. Kagami only wants his sensei to not be sad.





	Don't Be Sad

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kage88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kage88/gifts).

> For a friend who is always ready to talk fluff ideas with me when I'm having a bad day myself. I hope you like this one. 🖤

Tobirama stirred in his futon, brows drawing together. He extended his senses with more attention towards the disturbance at the front of his house, just as the wards shivered and relaxed for the signature.

Tobirama tensed for half a breath - if his brother had come to push at him further, with more _reasons_ why he should go on this trip . . . why he was the best one to send . . . why he wasn’t _needed here_ . . . - but if it had been Hashirama he’d have recognised it instantly; his Anija’s chakra signature was loud and unmistakable. This was small, warm and sparking and a little unsettled.

Kagami.

Tobirama smiled faintly, but it faded swiftly. He was always happy to work with his small student, but. . .

But he was in no fit state to teach today, unfortunately.

The shoji slid open, then closed again, very quietly, and soft padding footsteps approached behind him. Tobirama was surprised when Kagami crawled into the futon at his back, coming close and almost lying on his shoulder and side.

He opened his eyes and tilted his head back, looking up at Kagami.

Kagami tightened his little arms around as much of Tobirama as he could reach from there, snuggling close. “Hello, Tobi-sensei.” he said softly. “Don’t be sad. Please.”

Tobirama swallowed thickly, blinking rapidly as his eyes dampened. “Hello, Kagami-kun.”

Kagami nestled against his shoulder, humming. Tobirama closed his eyes, letting out a long, slow breath. He had . . . almost begun to waver; Anija was _so_ convinced Tobirama should go . . . and so unwilling to listen to his resistance, waving it off as though it was nothing, _unimportant_, silly. But Tobirama didn’t _want_ to go to Uzushio, and he had responsibilities here, among them this sweet little one to whom he had _made promises_.

Tobirama forced himself to calm again, taking a slow breath, then letting it out again even more slowly. Kagami made a little shushing sound and Tobirama’s lips curled. He shifted carefully, turning over, and Kagami sat up a bit, then clambered almost up on top of him, leaning over his shoulder onto his chest. Tobirama wrapped an arm around his student, sighing.

“Please don’t be sad, Tobi-sensei.” Kagami said quietly, nestling against his collarbone. “Can I help?”

“Oh. . .” Tobirama bit his lip, patting Kagami’s back. “You,” he paused, “you are helping.” he said honestly, meeting Kagami’s eyes with a smile that came a little easier this time.

Kagami smiled back, slightly too wide and a little crooked. “That’s good!” Kagami wriggled and squeezed his arms around Tobirama’s neck. “I really like you, sensei, and I don’t want you to be sad _ever_!”

“Everyone is sad sometimes.” Tobirama said almost absently, fingers resting on the little knob of bone at the nape of Kagami’s neck. “And I am . . . very fond of you, as well.”

“I don’t _want_ you to be sad.” Kagami said with all the conviction a small child could muster, and Tobirama laughed softly, hugging him.

“I don’t want you to be sad, either.” Tobirama agreed, thinking unhappily of being Kagami’s age himself, and facing young Uchiha very like his student across battlefields and skirmishes. “I am very glad to know you, Kagami-kun.” he added quietly.

“Did someone _make_ you sad?” Kagami asked, shifting in Tobirama’s embrace. He moved his arm away, but Kagami didn’t pull back, only freed one arm from beneath himself, so Tobirama returned his own.

“I. . .” Tobirama swallowed, thinking of his brother’s earnest face. Hashirama’s insistence and bullheaded refusal to _listen_, to be swayed. . . “A _situation_ has made me sad.” he said slowly. “Do you know what I mean?”

Kagami hummed and nodded. “Is it a stuck one, or a fix it one?” he asked, perceptively, and Tobirama smiled slightly and patted his back again.

“I hope it’s a fix it one, but we shall see.” Tobirama said, determined not to be pushed into agreeing. If Hashirama made it an _order_ he would comply . . . but he was still trying to get Tobirama to agree, so he might not take it so far, if Tobirama continued to refuse.

“If you need help. . .”

Tobirama smothered a laugh. “Thank you, Kagami-kun.”

“Mada-shishou is good at fixing problems.” Kagami offered, and Tobirama choked a little. He took a moment to steady himself, then opened his mouth to respond. “I can ask him to help if you’re too shy! Mada-shishou _always_-”

“I think I can manage, thank you, Kagami-kun.” Tobirama said firmly, having visions of Madara’s face if Kagami asked him to fix a problem for _Tobirama_.

Kagami made an agreeable noise and- Tobirama realised Kagami was petting his hair, little fingers combing carefully through the wild mess.

“Kagami-kun?” Tobirama spoke quietly. Kagami made a soft questioning noise, his fingers brushing Tobirama’s brow. He sighed. It was surprisingly relaxing. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“It always makes me feel better when you brush my hair, even if it’s just because I’ve got leaves in it.” Kagami said reasonably. “Or when Mada-shishou does. Sometimes he’ll let me sit with him while he works and he pets me.”

Tobirama . . . hadn’t known that. He pictured it suddenly - Madara at a low table, a cup of tea at his hand and his thin-framed glasses on his face, Kagami half-dozing at his side with one big hand resting on his fluffy curls - and bit his lip.

“Don’t you like it?” Kagami asked, sounding concerned, and Tobirama hummed.

“It’s,” he paused, “no, it’s . . . nice.” Tobirama admitted. “You don’t need to-”

“I want to make you feel better!” Kagami insisted, and so Tobirama stayed still and let his student pet his hair and snuggle against his shoulder, and _did_ feel rather better for both the uncomplicated company and the earnest desire to help, even if there wasn’t anything his little student could actually _do_.

Kagami remained there with him all afternoon, until Tobirama finally suggested they get up himself. Kagami bounced up, grinning, and Tobirama smiled at him and ruffled his hair, prompting a happy wriggle.

“You’re all wrinkly, Tobi-sensei.” Kagami said playfully, and Tobirama looked down at himself as he rose. His short yukata was a little crooked from where he had flung himself into his futon and thrashed a little in frustration this morning, then curled up heedlessly beneath the kakebuton.

“Why don’t you stay for dinner with me and then I’ll walk you back to the Uchiha compound?” Tobirama suggested as he straightened it, and smoothed his sash. He looked up at Kagami.

“All right, Tobi-sensei!” Kagami said happily, then- “Oh!” He ducked down to the floor, then bounced right back up again, holding out a deep blue furoshiki in both hands. “I brought this for you! It’s a treat! To cheer you up!”

Tobirama grinned and ruffled his hair again. “You already have, that, but thank you.”

Kagami pouted slightly, and Tobirama crouched to open the ‘treat’ to find it was a neat package of candied kiwi. He smiled at Kagami. “Shall we be naughty and have some now before I make dinner?” he suggested lightly.

Kagami giggled and nodded, and Tobirama laughed and drew him to the kitchen, making tea as he considered what he had _to_ make for dinner, since he had originally intended to go to the market today. Kagami settled at the table to wait for him politely, feet swinging under his chair, and Tobirama hummed to himself absently as he pulled down one of the blends he made himself that should go well with something so sweet as the candied fruit.

Once he had the furoshiki unwound Kagami waited patiently, not even reaching for the sweets, and Tobirama brushed his fingers through Kagami’s hair and patted his shoulder as he put a cup of tea before his student. Kagami perked, head tipping up, and Tobirama smiled and stepped away, seating himself across the table from Kagami.

He chose a bit of fruit and nodded towards it for Kagami to help himself, hiding his amusement as Kagami bounced and nearly knocked over his tea reaching for a slice.

It was surprisingly good, though Tobirama was fond of kiwi to begin with. Sweet without being syrupy and just saturated enough to give nicely when bitten into.

“Kagami-kun,” Tobirama reached out and dabbed a bit of sugary residue off Kagami’s cheek, “what brought you to see me today?” he asked. He’d only vaguely wondered when Kagami first appeared, caught in his own upset and too _surprised_ to think beyond his student’s actions, but the curiosity had returned as he made tea.

He had specifically ensured he had no commitments for the day, including with Kagami for lessons, but he wasn’t sure Kagami had even come looking for lessons. He hadn’t knocked, and he had been very quiet when he let himself in, nor had he questioned Tobirama on finding him in bed, even to ask if he were sick, only come to join him.

“Mada-shishou!” Kagami said, and Tobirama frowned, confused, then-

Ah, of course. He smiled slightly. “Well, that’s good,” Tobirama nodded, “as I know you aren’t to walk the village alone.” Kagami smiled brightly. “Why did you come to see me?” he asked instead. “I am happy to have you here, of course, and you’re always welcome to come see me if you like, but why today?”

“Mada-shishou!” Kagami said again, and Tobirama’s brows drew together.

“. . .Madara-san?” he questioned slowly. He eyed Kagami as he took another sip of tea, keeping his three slightly sticky fingertips away from the porcelain.

“Mada-shishou said that Tobi-sensei was _sad_!” Kagami said, looking distressed.

Tobirama only had a moment to register his student’s expression before the idea overtook him. Madara. Madara had told Kagami he was _sad_. _Madara_ had- How had Madara even _known_ Tobirama was upset?

“So I wanted to come see Tobi-sensei, of course!” Kagami said firmly. “To make you feel better!”

Why would Madara have _told Kagami_, even if he somehow had guessed Tobirama was in some manner of distress - or sensed it; a portion of Tobirama’s confusion eased as he realised Madara could easily have sensed his turbulent chakra in passing.

“And Mada-shishou said he was walking this way so I could come along so I’d be not-alone to walk the village and could go see Tobi-sensei if I hurried and got ready fast!” Kagami said cheerfully. “So I got ready _really_ fast, Tobi-sensei! So I could see you! You _are_ happy now, right?” he questioned earnestly.

Tobirama put the rest of the kiwi slice he held in his mouth, which was slightly too much for one bite. He nodded vaguely, which seemed to be enough for Kagami, who hummed contentedly and sipped his tea.

Tobirama tried not to cough as he chewed his overlarge bite. _Madara_ had sent Kagami - _brought_ him, gone out of his way because Tobirama _knew_ what was on Madara’s schedule for the day, meetings from sunrise on all day save for a break at lunch, when he must have spoken to Kagami. And walked him here, to Tobirama. Not even for Kagami’s sake, but _his_.

Not only that, Madara was the only reason Kagami had even _wanted_ to come to see him, had known there was something wrong.

“Do you like the kiwi?” Kagami asked, and Tobirama smiled, taking a breath and forcing the whirl of his thoughts to calm a little.

“Yes, thank you.” Tobirama said, reaching for another piece, though he should stop and make an actual meal. He’d skipped lunch himself, even if Kagami hadn’t. “Where did it come from?”

“Mada-shishou!” Kagami said again, and Tobirama froze. A burble of amusement rose in his mind as he thought he almost shouldn’t be surprised by the response now. “I helped though! We made it the day before yesterday! He threw Izuna-sama out of the kitchen.”

“Made it?” Tobirama said, then paused and shook his head. “I mean; you helped Madara-san make it?”

“Yes!” Kagami said happily, grinning with bits of sugar and green shreds stuck to his lips. “It was new, but Mada-shishou is always patient when it’s something new we’re making! He explains _everything_, just like you do.” He smiled, rocking a little in his chair as he kicked his feet again. “And he always says I should ask questions, just like you, Tobi-sensei, so I do. _All_ the questions.”

Tobirama laughed softly, because Kagami truly did ask _all_ the questions. He was a delightful student, and Tobirama very much enjoyed teaching him, was so pleased that he had come to be Tobirama’s student. That it had been _allowed_ \- no matter how much the elders of either of their clans muttered about it.

Tobirama had heard Madara muttering a few choice words about them once or twice early when they were still working out the details of Kagami’s allowance to take lessons with him. It had been . . . not _surprising_, exactly, because Madara’s care for his clan, particularly the young ones, was obvious to anyone with eyes. It had still been pleasant to know Madara had chosen to plant his stubborn self on their side - _Tobirama’s side_ \- of the disagreement.

“Do you often . . . cook with Madara-san?” Tobirama asked, because surely-

“Mada-shishou says it’s important.” Kagami said matter-of-factly. “He says I should learn and I can take good care of myself and everyone else when I grow up, just like he does. He says I already do better than Izuna-sama!”

“Does he.” Tobirama laughed.

“Izuna-sama sulks when he says that, but Izuna-sama can’t make _rice porridge_, Tobi-sensei. He _set the stove on fire_ last time Mada-shishou let him stay while we were cooking.” Kagami said seriously. “You shouldn’t even be _able_ to set the stove on fire. . .” he continued quietly.

Tobirama hid his reaction with his tea cup. “It sounds as though it is . . . not Izuna-san’s . . . particular talent.” he observed.

“No.” Kagami said firmly. Tobirama carefully _didn’t_ inhale his tea, though he couldn’t help a smile at the look on Kagami’s face and his blunt, disapproving tone.

Tobirama took another sip and shook his head slightly before rising, snagging one more piece of kiwi as he went, to see about a proper dinner.

“Can I help, Tobi-sensei?” Kagami asked, and Tobirama was about to tell him he needn’t, then paused, lips curling.

“Would you like to?” Tobirama invited, stepping sideways and gesturing Kagami to the counter. Kagami made a soft sound of delight and bounded up to join him, and Tobirama kept an eye on him, but he needed no real guidance through the simple dish.

Tobirama ruffled Kagami’s hair and praised his talent before taking the food to the table, and Kagami preened and rattled off more stories of helping Madara in the kitchen as they ate. Tobirama . . . hadn’t known Madara cooked at all, and it was both incredibly difficult and strangely easy to picture him teaching Kagami how to cook.

Kagami insisted on helping Tobirama clean up after dinner, and then Tobirama shooed him outside to walk him back to the Uchiha compound. It was very late, for Kagami, and he was a little surprised no one had come looking for the boy.

Kagami stopped at the gates and clung to Tobirama. “You’re not going to be sad any more, right, Tobi-sensei? And you’re going to fix the problem?”

“I’ll do my best, Kagami-kun.” Tobirama promised, touched by the concern.

“If you need help. . .”

Tobirama hugged him. “I’ll be all right. Thank you very much for spending the day with me.” he said, brushing a hand over Kagami’s cheek. “Now get on,” he nodded towards the compound gates, “it’s time for you to go home.”

“You’re welcome. I’m happy Tobi-sensei isn’t sad any more.” Kagami hugged him once more, then stepped away, bowing politely. Tobirama rose and inclined his head in return. “Good night, Tobi-sensei!”

“Good night, Kagami-kun.” Tobirama returned warmly, watching him until he was safely inside the compound and on his way home.

* * *

“Madara-san, have you a moment?”

Madara looked up and saw Tobirama leaning around the door. He nodded, once, and beckoned. “Come in. I’m just getting started for the day. What is it?” he asked, turning back to the shelves as Tobirama began to open the door fully.

The door closed again with a quiet click, and there was nothing save a quiet tap behind him for a long moment. Madara frowned, turning-

Tobirama appeared at his side. “Thank you.” he said softly, his eyes warm and unreadable. “For- For bringing Kagami-kun yesterday. I don’t know how you knew- Or- Or why. . .” he paused, licking his thin lips.

Madara swallowed, fighting down a flush. He’d overheard the Senju brothers arguing - he’d made a point to _listen_, really, after he’d felt Hashirama’s overwhelming chakra surge only to be answered by the lash of Tobirama’s, which was usually held under utter control. He’d heard Hashirama trying to send Tobirama away, and Tobirama arguing against it, and felt the _hurt_ more than _anger_ in the cool ocean of his chakra.

Tobirama claiming - not inaccurately - that he was needed here, that he _couldn’t_ go elsewhere for six months or longer. That he had a student, to whom he had made promises, and couldn’t abandon them for so long. That he had duties and responsibilities and only once had he simply said he didn’t _want_ to go, rather offering reasons.

Yet Hashirama hadn’t listened and the argument had stalled at an impasse when Tobirama left, still distressed.

Madara couldn’t say precisely _why_ he’d wanted to fix it for Tobirama, who wasn’t even a friend, who would surely not welcome concern or comfort from Madara . . . but he would always welcome Kagami, who was dearly attached to his sensei in return. It had been easy enough to spark the same concern Madara felt himself in Kagami, and easier still to fabricate an excuse to walk near Tobirama’s home - far out and away from the Senju compound, or indeed much of anything else, for the sake of his experiments supposedly - so that Kagami had an escort to go to him.

Madara had remained nearby just long enough to feel Tobirama’s surprise, then the turbulent but warming emotions stirring in his distinctive signature as Kagami joined him, then gone on, returning to work.

“. . .but thank you, Madara.” Tobirama said, voice very soft, leaving off any honorific and startling Madara. He brushed the back of his fingers over Madara’s wrist, then turned and was gone in a breath, not waiting for a response.

Madara took a few more moments, breathing slow and deep, hand curled around the edge of the shelf. He finally retrieved the book he had been reaching for, then headed back to his desk, and froze after taking two steps.

There was a tray on his desk that hadn’t been there before, holding a teapot and a small porcelain jar with a stalk of fuurinsou lying across the top.

Madara brushed his knuckles over the teapot and found it very warm. The teapot was one of those in the Tower rotation, but the tea inside was . . . _not_ one from the Tower’s cupboards. He poured a cup of golden-green tea and breathed in the smell of it, thick and green and rich with something sweet and-

Madara sipped it carefully and tasted fruit, a melding he couldn’t quite identify until he let it linger over his tongue and began to pick out different notes. It was very good tea. Even the base leaves were far better than was usually stocked in the Tower, and the blend was not one he had ever come across before. He wasn’t even sure he knew all of the flavours in the tea.

Thoroughly distracted - and pleasantly so; a rarity for a morning at the Tower - it took Madara some minutes to remember the other items on the tray. Fuurinsou, the bell-like flowers soft and blue, clearly fresh. Hanakotoba he rarely used was still easily recalled. Gratitude, sincerity, cheer.

He brushed a fingertip over one of the bells.

Madara picked up the stalk of flowers lightly and moved it aside, off the jar. It was a shimmery white with sweeping lines of bright red patterning it, and put Madara irresistibly in mind of the tattoos on Tobirama’s face, and the glimpse he’d once caught of a pair very like them crossing his collarbone. Fingers tracing the red marks in the glaze, Madara shook off the thoughts it inspired and opened the jar.

The scent of rich green tea and fruit nearly hit him the face. Madara could almost _taste_ it just from the smell . . . the same tea he had been drinking. His eyes widened and he drew a fingertip along the top of the jar, bending closer and breathing it in again.

It was pretty, too; nearly-whole leaves in a lovely muted green, studded with brighter green, yellows and oranges, and purple-blue-pinks. Madara lifted the jar - it was a solid little thing - and tilted it, admiring the tea and wondering where it came from. He finally sealed the jar again only when he sensed his brother approaching.

He hid it in a drawer and took a sip of tea, realising too late that the flowers were still lying across his desk and Izuna was sure to spot them and . . . _comment_.

Oh well. Madara took another sip and smiled, savouring the mingled flavours and thinking again of Tobirama, standing so close, eyes soft, voice low, fingers warm as they brushed over his wrist. . .


End file.
